Glamorous and clamorous, beautiful and grotesque - the Art From The New World exhibition at Bristol’s City Museum and Gallery takes the lewd, the elegant and, above all, the original, sets it inside exquisite frames and displays it for all the world to see.

I’ve always sought out art that’s transportative or transformative in some way, and this exhibition ticked all those boxes, reminding me of the most twisted of fairy tales. Nothing’s quite as it seems, which is just how I believe art should be, with sub-text galore that allows you to interpret and, most likely, misinterpret to your heart’s content.

The exhibition showcases the talent of 49 contemporary North American artists, here under the care of the LA-based Corey Helford Gallery, and to me it represents so much of what I love about the US, where ultra-conventionality and extreme radicalism can reside, quite comfortably, a mere block apart.

From a writer’s point of view, the artwork in the museum entrance had me almost clapping my hands with glee. Mike Stilkey’s sculpture-painting is built entirely from novels donated by Orion Books - novels that have been saved from being pulped, giving old texts new life and showing that reinvention really is the new creation.

Art From The New World will be exhibiting at Bristol’s City Museum and Gallery until Sunday August 22nd 2010.

Rorschach 02 © Adam Closs

On Friday I went to the preview of Black and White, the latest exhibition from Adam Closs. Adam is one of my favourite Bristol artists, not only because of the calm beauty of the work he produces, but because of the ideals behind it.

Adam creates his conceptual works with the aim of creating the ultimate ambiguous object. It sounds like an unusual aim for an artist. Most people who create do so in attempt to get a particular message or meaning across, but Adam’s work strives to do the exact opposite of this.

“When my work is shown I want people to look at my paintings and see something of themselves in them. I don’t tell them what to see – the whole point is that what they see should come from inside themselves. Sometimes people come over to me at a gallery and say something like ‘Did you mean to put that giraffe in the lower left hand corner?’ and I’ll be thrilled, but they’ll walk away thinking they got it wrong somehow, that they made a mistake. What they don’t understand is that I didn’t put it there, they did, and that’s okay. I want people to have the confidence and the power to look at something and take ownership, instead of feeling ignorant because they couldn’t work out what the artist was saying!”

There’s something very freeing about attending an exhibition with that goal behind it. While much of the wall-space was taken up by clean black and white pieces inspired by the inkblots developed by Swiss psychologist Hermann Rorschach, my favourites were the large creamy swathes of linen, which seemed to take on different characteristics according to who was looking at them.

In one, my hubla could see the kind of rain and wind erosion usually found pitting and carving amazing shapes into limestone rock formations, while in another I saw the ridged ripples drawn over sand by the retreating and encroaching tide. It made me wonder if different things emerge according to the day, the light, your mood…

The only way to find out will be to go for another look. The exhibition is on at the Grant Bradley Gallery (1 St. Peters Court, Bedminster Parade, Bedminster, Bristol BS3 4AQ) until May 1st 2010, so luckily there will be plenty of chances to go back.

On the opening night of Barry Lewis’ Monsters exhibition 13 out of 40 pieces sold, which is pretty impressive. Sadly all the ones my hubla fell in love with went within moments, but I managed to get a red dot onto a rather lovely one of a pegasus, very similar to the horse of spoons, but with an elegant pair of fish-knife wings. I can’t wait till the end of Feb when I can take it home.

The exhibition gained loads of media attention, partly, I’d like to think, due to my press releases. I picked up a copy the Evening Post and found that one of the journalists had used paragraphs from my release word for word. Nice to know I’m making life so easy for them, but odd to see my words credited to someone else…

A selection of my words are also currently taking part in an art and poetry exhibition called Exploding Poetry. It’s being held at Bank Street Arts Centre, and is on the topic of women and warfare. I wrote short piece called Not War, Nor Peace, inspired by my time in Israel, and it got accepted! Love it when that happens – it almost makes all the rejections worthwhile.

Sabre tooth tiger by Barry Lewis

Last night’s preview of Barry Lewis’ Monsters exhibition was the most bubbling I’ve been to for a long while. I barely got to say hello to Barry as folks crowded round him, eager to meet the great creator of so many magical beasts. I’d seen countless photos of his work, but never come face to face with the animals until the event, and I was intrigued by how many I fell deeply in love with. No wonder red dots were springing up all over the room.

Sadly, Horse of Spoons, sold early on, as did my hubla’s favourite, Codzilla, a huge glimmering fishhead made of fish knives and other reclaimed materials.

There’s something about the combined elegance and unpretentiousness of the scultures that really appeals to all kinds of people, including those, like my hubla, who occasionally complain about not getting art. There’s a playfulness to the whole collection that’s hugely appealing, as people crowded round, identifying old coffee pots, forks, engine parts and gas canisters. It was like a version of Where’s Wally for grown ups.

The menagerie was populated by enough creatures to put Bristol Zoo to shame, with seagulls hovering overhead, gigantic scorpions, spiders and dragonflies, lobster, crabs and vast coppery fish, an alligator with a body woven from bike tyres, as well as more abstract works such as a heart made from spoons and a satellite dish - ideal for Valentine’s Day.

The one serious undercurrent running throughout is the message of reclaiming, restoring and recycling, the three R’s of our era. In taking other people’s rubbish and transforming it into art, Barry works magic on several levels. The animal-heads mounted on plaques  made from old table tops take this a step further, by poking fun at those who still believe hunting is a good, honourable hobby.

I’d rather have a sabre-tooth tiger made from cutlery on my wall than the head of a dehydrated, stuff dead animal any day, and the hordes of people at the Grant Bradley Gallery yesterday seemed to agree.

Westbourne Angels © Nic Dartnell

One of the more recent developments to my career path has been the introduction of a few PR skills, writing press releases and features to promote artists who come to me via the Grant Bradley Gallery in Bedminster, Bristol.

I love this kind of work because it means getting to chat with interesting creative folk and take a look at their paintings, photography, sculptures, or whatever else they pour their thoughts and feelings into. It’s wonderful to have the opportunity to promote things I’m genuinely moved by.

One of my recent clients is Nic Dartnell. He’s a fascinating character, part rock star part painter and photographer. His first big success came way back in the 1970s when he was just 18 years old and had the audacity to send a piece of artwork to supergroup-to-be Emerson, Lake & Palmer. I admire that kind of behaviour - taking a chance on your work because you believe in it!

He was right to, because the band loved it and used it as the cover of their debut album. You can still see that eerie bird/face in record stores and billboards all over the world

Since then he’s produced a series of intricate images of individual African and Asian children, made a series of five paintings for a book about Jimmy Hendrix, and developed his studies of Navajo art, which culminated in the creation of a full sized sand painting on the floor of the Grant Bradley Gallery in 2008. He approaches his work without a shred of self-doubt, eager to attempt anything that moves him.

The exhibition I’ve been helping him to promote is all about the exuberance of the carnival. It’s an examination of how this kind of environment allows us to let loose and become something other than our everyday selves - a sort of magical metamorphosis.

Nic used video footage to film crowds of revellers and performers at the Notting Hill Carnival, and then picked out images of people that he felt demonstrated this mood. The chosen scenes are now a series of lustrous oil paintings that will be on show at the Grant Bradley Gallery from September 3rd to October 3rd 2009.

I can’t wait for the preview on Friday September 4th. Previews at the Grant Bradley are always good fun, but having been so involved in this exhibition will make it all the more exciting. It’s open to the public, giving gallery visitors an opportunity to meet the artist and view his work while listening to live jazz and soul music by new Bristol talent Bashema, who I’m looking forward to hearing. She performed at Glastonbury 2009 and has her own show on Bristol Community Radio, so it should be a good night.

© Gavin Spencer

Between swine flu and the recession, it’s nice to have something positive in the news, and Antony Gormley’s plinth is doing a grand job.

When I first heard about the idea I was a bit bemused. Antony Gormley is one of the UK’s most exciting sculptors, best known for his immense Angel of the North, so when I heard he’d been commissioned to fill Trafalgar Square’s strangely empty fourth plinth, I was filled with anticipation.

Then he revealed that what he would be doing was allowing 2,400 people an hour each to do whatever they chose on the plinth in the guise of being part of a living sculpture.

To be honest, at first it seemed like a bit of a cop-out, but now it’s actually happening I’ve been completely converted to the idea.

It’s a chance for any one of us to get up there, with a lottery system choosing registered hopefuls at random. Once in place you can do whatever you choose, and the performances, viewed by those in the square and those watching it on the internet and TV at home, have been incredibly varied.

One person held up a sign asking “But is it art”, a deluge of poets have been reading out their work. A writer I know will be up there on Monday reading out important words chosen by anyone who responded to his calls for submission.

It’s a fascinating blend of the intriguing, the pretentious and the banal, but it’s all rather magical. Celebs are no more likely to be chosen than unknowns, lecturers no more than labourers. It’s a completely level playing field, where everyone has a chance to stand in front of the world’s media, look down on the lions and say their piece.

But it also feels like a huge responsibility. What would you do with an hour’s worth of that kind of attention? What plight would you draw attention to? What brave idea would you voice? What beautiful lines of poetry or prose would you bring forth? An hour is a long time in the spotlight if you’re not used to it, and that hour will live on forever online, so you’d want to get it right.

No pressure then.